King's Mistress
by Autumnspice
Summary: Caspian takes matters into his own hands when the Pevensies leave Narnia. Pairing: Caspian/OC, implied Suspian.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Caspian and Susan belong to C.S. Lewis

--

Being the king's mistress is an honor.

Very few maidens are ever called upon in Narnia to serve a king's primal needs. Normally that duty is left to his wife, the queen. This king has no queen. Nor does he want one. Without me, the palace would fall victim to his frequently volatile moods that would otherwise go unchecked. I provide him the distraction and company he needs and wants.

Being the king's mistress is a privilege.

I've seen the looks that the women in the village give me. They are scandalized by something as natural as breathing itself. Jealous as well, the lot of them. Any of them would love to have me out of the way and take my place. As though a woman of my station has no business being with him. The advantage I have is that the king is more experienced in intimate relations and easier on the eyes than their husbands, of course.

Being the king's mistress is a curse.

He tries to conceal the pain he endures, but he simply can't. His every move both in and out of his bed are strictly mechanical. He is a ghost in a man's body. His eyes that at one time were full of life are now dead and vacant. There is nothing that I can do to alleviate his misery that has long since consumed him. He doesn't realize I know he calls out for Susan to heal him. Whoever she was, no one else can dare replace her in his world, nor does he want anyone to.


	2. Chapter 2

NC-17

A/N: Warning: Dark!Caspian emerges. Not for the faint of heart.

A huge thank you to Rhiononon for this particular bunny and helping see it to fruition

In response to drabble challenge at LJ's SusanCaspian featuring 'evil'

--

Caspian would not accept the fact that she was never to return. The way that she had affected him like no one else could was evidence enough. In the short time they were together, with only stolen glances between them, all he had were memories. But how long would those last?

A strange request was issued. Any young maiden bearing Susan's resemblance was ordered to make an appearance at the castle. Caspian would decide what to do with her later.

There was one girl who caught his eye. She was obviously younger than him but that didn't matter. Everytime he saw her, he saw Susan. Part of him felt he shouldn't do this, shouldn't look at her like that. Didn't everyone deserve to be treated fairly? But he hadn't been, and he needed... needed some semblance of something. Caspian couldn't let her go. Susan was his, all his - even this pale thing that wasn't quite her. It would have to do. She would have to do.

He tried to avoid temptation. He wanted to hold Susan once more. The pain and despair was eating away at him. How was he supposed to be a fair and just king to his own people when he couldn't even go a single day without being haunted by her? He was nothing but a shell without her, and what else did he have to go on for? She possessed all of him even in her absence. His rage slowly surmounted him.

He demanded her presence often. Be it while sitting in councils, during banquets, or simply strolling through the courtyards and gardens. He never said a word to her, only wanting to be near her. She left once before but she would never leave again. He would make certain of it.

It didn't take long before she was summoned to his chambers. Her meager belongings were moved there as well. The first night in his bed, she played the role of a shy virgin. Susan was certainly shy at times and he didn't imagine this would be any different. Her exotic scent even reminded him of the Gentle Queen.

Caspian didn't miss the glimmer of confusion...and was that jealousy in her eyes? He called out for his Queen in the heat of his lust. Every night she went along with it as he fucked her with no emotion. He ceased to hear her protests when she was sent to another room afterwards.

He didn't care anymore. He knew she wasn't Susan. Who was he trying to fool? When he looked at her, he prayed to see the Queen's face but he didn't anymore. What was he even doing and why? He regretted that he had even made the royal decree to find her. She was gone. She had vanished so long ago if she was even real to begin with, and the memories he held dear had vanished as well. Why was he holding on to her? Yes, he was enamoured with her even as a boy when she was nothing but a fantasy from the forbidden past. The short time they spent together felt like a fantasy as well, that of a pleasant dream that shattered in the end with no hope in sight. Why did he even waste his time pursuing her? Perhaps that was simply his fate to be deprived of everything near and dear to him. No mistresses or fantasies could ever assuage that pain.

--

Caspian's resentment of both his mistress and himself led him down a dark spiral of no return. She had become nothing more than a common whore as punishment. And he punished her often. She taunted him as well, delving deeper into the role of Queen Susan. Unconsciously, she took on the Queen's mannerisms.

He especially liked to tie her wrists to the posts of his bed with leather bindings she could not dare escape from. A silk scarf covered her eyes. She always had that annoying habit of playing innocent and clenching her thighs together under her skirts out of feigned nervousness that he could not stand.

"Do not close your legs in front of me!" he growled. Those were the only words he uttered as he stealthily circled the bed, tracing the tip of his sword along the curves of her body. Standing at the foot of the bed, facing toward her, he slid the blade underneath her linen skirt. She could feel the sharp edge biting into the skin at the apex of her thighs. She sucked in a tight breath, feeling herself getting wetter. Suddenly, there was a loud rip as the blade tore through her skirt, exposing her to him.

Sometimes, a part of him questioned what he was doing at these times. Of course, it was quickly shoved away. Such things no longer had a place inside him. There was no reason to return to that existance he had once known many lifetimes ago.

He traced the tip of the blade along her smooth skin, from her hot center to the tops of her heaving breasts that spilled out of her corset. Her heart was racing as she squirmed underneath his watchful gaze and let out a whimper as the blade grazed across her exposed taut nipple. Another rip and her corset lay spread on the blanket beneath her.

Unfastening the ties of his breeches, he let out a soft sigh as his erection was released from its constricting confines. Sliding them down his legs and kicking them aside, he dropped the sword to the ground with a clatter. A dagger replaced it. He crawled over her, nipping her taut belly with his teeth, teasing her inner thigh with tongue, all the while, letting her feel the bite of the cold steel blade. Not deep enough to draw blood but enough to allow the sensations to wash over her. Roughly, Caspian rammed a finger deep into her dripping heat. Her hips bucked underneath him as he removed his hand from her.

"Are you wet enough for me?" he asked huskily.

She only whimpered in reply.

"Speak up."

"Yes, your Majesty."

She screamed in pleasure as he finally plunged inside her. Riding her mercilessly, Caspian seeking a bit of meaningless solace. He didn't care about her needs - just his own.

When he was spent, he cut the ties loose, removed the scarf from her eyes, and sent her to her room to clean up.

--

Several weeks of this sexual torture had passed. She was as dominant over him as he was over her, though he managed to maintain his power. She drove him absolutely insane. She was his addiction. A drug that he could never get enough of. He would never...could never let her go. It would be the end of him.

One afternoon, he summoned her and she was nowhere to be found. A thorough search of the castle revealed that she had escaped. This sent Caspian into a rage. He mounted Destrier and gallopped toward the Western Woods. A sense of familiarity washed over him as he briefly recalled escaping for his own life in this very direction from another bondage what seemed ages ago. He shoved the thought from his mind and continued into the forest. It seemed to be hours before he found where she was hiding. He grabbed her arm and lifted her onto the saddle in front of him, fighting him as lay on her belly across Destrier's back. On the ride back to the castle, she had calmed down a bit but there was still an undeniable fire that flashed in her eyes. He had seen that fire before in someone else's eyes.

Dismounting in the stables, he dragged her by the arm up the many stairs to his chambers. He slapped her face and shook her violently.

Through gritted teeth, he snarled at her. "Don't you _ever_ try a stunt like that again! You are bound to this position until the day you die or I get tired of you, whichever comes first."

She refused to look at him.

He shoved her away. "Go to your room and take a bath. You reek of sweat. Don't bother dressing."

When she emerged, clean, into his room, he was sitting in a chair near the fireplace, glaring at her darkly.

"On your hands and knees, slut!"

She complied, staring at him defiantly.

"Now crawl to me."

How evil and depraved had he become in his bitterness? It didn't matter anymore.

He instructed her to release his cock from his breeches and suck it in her mouth. She licked the shaft, teasing him, before taking his length in her throat. Watching her through hooded eyes, his wrath toward her unscathed, he tangled his fingers in her long dark tresses. His eyes widened and his lip curled, baring his teeth as he held her head down, forcing her to swallow more than she was able. He didn't see her eyes water in discomfort as she gagged on him. Nor did he care.

He released his grip on her as she swallowed every last drop. She licked her lips as he stood up and walked away from her.

--

She couldn't do this anymore. The sex, raw as it was, could not hold them together. She knew that and she knew he knew it as well. Try as she might, there would never be any replacement for Susan in his life. He was too bitter and hurt for that. Caspian wouldn't miss her. He would miss who and what she was pretending to be but that wasn't her, and what little she had heard of the former Queen, she doubted was true for her as well.

Taking a stroll through the courtyard, she willed herself to act normal.

_"Calm, I must stay calm. Don't alert anyone of this. One foot in front of the other. Just like that. One more step."_

Stepping up onto the parapet wall, she spread her arms and leaned forward. She was flying. Though fear threatened to overtake her, she finally felt free for a single moment. Nothing and no one could take that away now.

--

When Caspian heard the news, he didn't want to see her body, or what was left of it. He went into a catatonic shock. The rest of his days, he sat on an empty throne, wondering where he went wrong. What was it about the real Susan Pevensie that captivated and enchanted him so? He couldn't put his finger on it. Why must he live eternally in the shadows? Wasn't he the king that he was expected to be? What happened? Where did everything go wrong? He would never know.


End file.
